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Even the architecture, the rococo décor itself, evoked thoughts of fleshly curves and taut erect breasts;
Oo-err, missus!
“All this shouldn’t last; but it will, always; the human ‘always’ of course, a century, two centuries . . . and after that it will be different, but worse. We were the Leopards and Lions; those who’ll take our place will be little jackals, hyenas; and the whole lot of us, Leopards, jackals and sheep, we’ll all go on thinking ourselves the salt of the earth.”
with his low forehead, ornamental quiffs of hair on the temples, lurching walk and perpetual swelling of the right trouser pocket where he kept a knife, it was obvious at once that Vincenzino was “a man of honour”, one of those violent cretins capable of any havoc.
he went on to think that he must see to repairing the tomb of his ancestors at the Capuchins. A pity corpses could no longer be hung up by the neck in the crypt and watched slowly mummifying; he’d look magnificent on that wall, tall and big as he was, terrifying girls by the set smile on his parchment face, by his long, long white nankeen trousers. But no, they’d dress him up in party clothes, perhaps in this very evening coat he was wearing now.
“Why ever didn’t the Holy Office forbid these puddings when it had the chance? ‘Triumphs of Gluttony’ indeed! (Gluttony, mortal sin!) Saint Agatha’s sliced-off teats sold by convents, devoured at dances! Well! Well!”
Why, he wondered, did God not want anyone to die with their own face on? For the same happens to us all: we all die with a mask on our features; even the young;
Benignly he let everyone kiss his ring,
Yuck!
